


Straight Into The Fire

by AudeTheThird



Category: True Blood
Genre: F/M, PWP, Sex, Smut, f/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudeTheThird/pseuds/AudeTheThird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric is 'asleep'. Sookie is mildly drunk, and feeling a little bit lonely. Surely he won't know...? PWP. Smut. There is SEX in here. Kind of Non-con? But not really. Well, if you get technical, but I don't think he will mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Straight Into The Fire

Eric wished he could move. His cock was throbbing, up against his belly, begging to be touched. But he was dead for the day, he wouldn't be able to fix himself until later.

His brain was well awake, images of bending Sookie over a desk flashing behind his lids. She was crying for it, taking him all, tightly wrapped around him, her hands clawing the desk. And he was giving all he had, pounding into her, lifting her legs from the table so that she didn't bruise.

She was clawing at him, ripping at his arms, unsure of what she wanted, unsure of why she was squirming, of what he was hitting inside of her, begging for a release she didn't know how to give. He growled out his sympathies, his instructions, gave her what she needed, what she  _deserved_. She squirted, and cried, and he bit into her shoulder and took a deep draw of her fae blood.

But his cock, in the reality of his half-wake conscious, was not giving him anything but a frustrating ache. This wasn't the first time this had happened - in that hotel room in Dallas, the first night after giving her his blood, he could feel her wanting him, and didn't his dick know it too. His finger may have risen off the bed, just an inch, then set back down, unable to move.

He was almost crying.

Pam, in his chest, stirred to the same wakefulness, her mind and heart questioning why her maker was so frustrated. He didn't reply, but she knew all the same, and after a short burst of her inner laughter, she went back to being totally dead.

Eric, rather old, could stay awake during the day, just like any vampire who tried it. But to wake up from the midst of his sleep was more difficult - a small, beeping alarm told him that it was five o'clock. He had over an hour to lay there and wait for his cock to deflate.

He also had over an hour of dreaming left on his subconscious. He had the feeling that he and Sookie weren't going anywhere.

* * *

Bill had to go away. He hadn't told her why, only that someone higher up had told him that he must go for at least a month and do some work. The only 'higher up' she knew was Eric. She literally had no one else in the vampiric world to turn to, and if he was the culprit, she'd soon know about it.

They had been trying to work things out, Bill trying hard to keep her happy, to impress her, but something was wrong... She could feel it in her bones, the wrongness of something he was saying, or doing. All her life, she had read minds, and that came with a surprising ability to match faces to thoughts. She'd called their fling off, but he had been so tender and sweet, she was willing to give it a second go.

Maybe she was wrong.

So she went to Eric's bar, after she got off from work, which was a little later on in the night. He wasn't there - Pam was.

"I want to see Eric."

"Why?"

"Beehl's gone missing, thanks to some 'higher up'. I wanna know where he is, and if Eric has anything to do with it."

Pam had given her a long once over, her lips pursed thoughtfully, then did something Sookie was never expecting.

She took her aside, and in a very tiny voice, said: "I'll take you to where Eric rests for the day. Let me do some paper work and then I'll take you, okay, sugar?"

She looked sincere. And Sookie, knowing what it meant for a vampire's resting place to be revealed, could only agree, and sit down patiently indulging in just a few drinks. She soon fell asleep, tired after work, anxious for the meet, a little beyond tipsy. It was several hours later when Pam came in and woke her did she realise that she was walking into a potential trap, and allowed herself to panic, just a little.

Pam said nothing to quell her fear - in fact, Pam said nothing the entire trip, driving them down, out of town, past ever mounting trees and various foliage. She barely had an idea of where it was they were going, then Pam swerved and the car jolted to the left. Sookie held onto the door for dear life - but the door swung open. Pam had stopped the car, and apparently they were there.

A few men in grubby work boots and jeans raised their eyes, but they ignored them once they saw who it was. Sookie could hear their minds - well organised, on alert. They weren't workers of any sort, they were disguised, some kind of high profile snipers. Their guns were hidden just out of sight.

Pam dragged her to a tree, then opened some kind of secret trap door, and shoved her towards the descending stairs. They walked on in silence, for what Sookie thought was quite a while, until they came to a set of doors. Pam showed her to the one on the left, dabbed her bleeding nose delicately with a silken handkerchief, then pointed to the blue door ahead of her.

"That's where Eric is." she said around the material keeping her blood from staining her clothes. "You wanted to see him."

"Thank you, Pam." she said politely, and checked her watch. It was past daybreak. She went to the door, and opened it, only to find Eric in there, naked, laying flat on his back.

Pam locked the door behind her.

"Have fun." she drawled, and flounced away.

First, she tried to wake him. She spoke to him in a stern voice, told him to wake up, 'or else'. But it wasn't working, he was literally dead to the world.

She tried to shake him. She put her hands on the swell and meat of his bicep and shook him, but he still didn't wake. His face betrayed nothing; the blank nature of his expression when she kicked him in the ribcage told her he wasn't active.

She tried to open the door by ramming against it, but only got hurt for her efforts.

With no couches, no tv, and no food in his room, she had little else to do but lay on the bed and accompany him in resting for the day, the alcohol convincing her it was a good idea to sleep it off.

* * *

She was wondering why a draft of cold air was playing on her skin. She shifted, murmuring a little, rolling closer to the blankets. Something had altered their arrangement - he'd moved.

"You better not be awake." she yawned, and found his shoulder, still and cold as he had been the last time she'd touched him. "I'm tired, I'm locked in, and I need to sleep off this drunk. What're you doin'?"

Her hand checked his eyes, which were still closed, down to his lips, which were still soft, in a relaxed line. He hadn't moved from laying on his back, but something had changed. She felt down, to his legs, which remained flat along the bed, the width of his thigh under her hand something to be marvelled at. But she brushed something that hadn't been there before...

He was hard.

"Good  _lord,_  do you ever stop thinkin' about sex?" she scolded him, sitting up in the bed. It was dark, too dark to see anything. She could get up, but she would probably have difficulties finding the door. And knowing Eric, it was made out of something to withstand great force, and her shoulder still hurt from trying to bust it down before, which she could scarcely remember.

She sighed, and lay back down, grumpy. Her arms folded over her chest, and she stared at the roof, her elbow on his bicep, making sure he didn't move.

It was somewhat a comfort, to know where he was in the otherwise pitch black room. If she didn't touch him, how would she know he wasn't up and stalking her, pacing around the bed, watching? She wouldn't. So she just lay there.

She'd wanted to talk to Bill. It had been weeks since they had last spoken, and she missed him dearly. Well, her body missed him. Everything else had been pretty much fine. She'd refrained from touching herself, because it was a sin, and all, but it was getting harder not to try it out.

The problem with those drinks was that they didn't taste like alcohol at all, and it had been humid enough in Eric's office that she'd downed them in record time, on a mostly empty stomach. She thought she was fine, till she had to stand up, and looking back now, there'd been a lot of stumbling and bumping into things when Pam had dragged her along.

Her daydreaming unfortunately brought her mind in a full three sixty, back to the hardness that had awoken her in the first place. It had pulled the blankets up, tenting them enough to make the temperature fall dramatically... How _big_  was it?

Bill had told her he didn't remember anything when he was resting in the day. Not her kisses, or tugs at his anatomy. He did react to her stroking him, but he didn't remember it in the evening.

Surely...Eric would be the same.

"I hope you're not alive enough to know this." she informed him, rolling on her side. Her hand found his shoulder again, smoothed over his chest. Her fingertips found a nipple, which she drew her nails over lightly. If he liked it, she would never know, because he did nothing.

She traced the defined lines of his chest, the heaviness of his pectorals under her hand, before running her palm down, over the dips of his abdomen.

The V of his hips was extremely prominent, even in the dark. Her nails raked over that too, the arrow that pointed to his self proclaimed best part. She was trying to find his belly button when she found the tip of him instead.

She gasped.

It was all the way up, resting over his belly, hiding what she'd been so innocently looking for. But judging from where his hips where, were his base should be... She had no idea it could be so big.

She ran the pad of her forefinger down the thick vein under it, finding his base and circling her thumb and forefinger around it. She couldn't touch them together there, so she ran them up the length of him, until she reached the tip, where just underneath the flared head, she could touch them.

She felt... empowered.

"Let's see, Mr. Northman, if you're really all that big." she murmured, finding his body with her mouth. She pressed the lightest butterfly kisses down his stomach, crawling so that she straddled his legs.

His length bumped her breasts as she leant down to lick the dents of his stomach, and she removed her shirt, rubbing his tip against the swell of each one. He throbbed in her hand - he liked it. She could tell, because with Bill, his body had communicated in much the same way.

"You like that, Eric?" she mused, planting a dry kiss on the top of his penis.

He throbbed in answer.

The tip of her tongue met him, drawing a wet line around his head. Again, he throbbed. But he didn't move. Sookie giggled to herself, moved him out of her way, though still in her hand, to place a light bite on his nipple. He did like it, she knew he would.

She laughed again. He was very active, receptive to all she did. She found his cock with her mouth again, and brazenly licked a line from base to tip, circling it with her tongue before putting it carefully in her mouth. He tasted - good. Better than Bill, if she was completely honest. She tasted the first beads of precum and took her time licking him clean of them.

Between her thighs, her womanhood made itself known. She wanted to take him for a test run - Sookie happened to think that it was too far, too soon after Bill, but... it wasn't cheating, if they weren't together. And Eric would scent it, but he would never  _know_. She could just tell him it was a hot dream.

"I'm going to hell." she murmured into his belly, tasting him there, too. "Straight into the fire."

She rolled off of him, sliding out of her shorts and under wear. Her bra came off, too, and she folded them neatly, putting them on the dresser so she could find them when she was done.

"This could be rape." she mused as she folded. "Technically you haven't given me permission. But I don't care. You'd say yes."

She found his thighs were quivering when she mounted them again. Her hands slid up his chest to his mouth, and found that his fangs were out. She dipped her fingers into her sex, rubbing her clit for a moment, before pushing inside, to walls that hadn't been touched in the longest time.

"I'm wet for you," she told him in a breathy voice. "And all I've done is taste you. Maybe you should taste me, too."

She found his mouth again, and pushed her wettened fingers inside, drawing a line on his tongue, which bucked under her touch, instantly moving to lick. But he didn't move anywhere else. She still had power over him.

"Like it, lover?" she giggled, and leaned down to suck on his bottom lip, tasting him, and herself. His cock was pulsing in her hand, now. He was leaking onto her fingers, which she rubbed over his head.

"I'm still a little drunk. It's okay. No strings." she told him, and sat up, bracing his tip against her core. "Oh, wow. Are you going to fit in there?"

She leaned forward onto his body, positioning him again, and slowly lowered her hips, rocking them down just an inch. He prodded her, but her body was smaller than he was wide. She held him tightly in her hand and rubbed his come along her, allowing herself to relax.

While she was humping the head of his cock, she sucked at his neck, and bit into his shoulder, licking up to his ear to nibble there too. She rubbed him against her clit, and humming into his jaw, bucking her hips slightly at the sensation.

Once again, she pressed his head into her opening, surprised when he slid a little more in. She held a deep breath, before sliding her hips down, accepting his tip inside of her.

She groaned into his shoulder, clutching his arm hard in one hand, trying to to grip him too tightly with the other. Her breathing was erratic, and she felt dizzy from all the alcohol she'd consumed, the heavy breathing she'd done, the naughtiness of it all. Her eyelids were closed, allowing her to imagine that Eric's hands were on her hips, encouraging her down. She obliged, taking her time, allowing her body to adjust to his size.

"God, Eric." she whispered into his jawline. "What took me so long to get here?"

She was groaning as she engulfed him completely. He filled her up to the brink - it was almost painful, but not quite. She needed to give herself time to stretch around him, and allowed the hand that had been guiding him inside to rub her clit, trying to coax juices to help her fuck him.

She lifted her hips a little, and brought them down, sighing at the feeling of him hitting her inside.

"You're magnificent." she murmured into his skin. "So big. All for me. Only for me. I could ride you forever."

She began to increase the pace. She had to, she was dying for friction.

"Jesus, Eric." she swore, sitting up, rolling her hips, rubbing her clit with one hand and steadying her weight with the other on his stomach. She rolled and rocked and gyrated, his massive length hitting places she didn't know she had. The good thing was, he didn't take over, he had to let her explore. Bill hadn't really liked her on top, though he knew she liked it, so he let her start off that way.

She heard something, a faint beeping, that barely registered through her haze of bliss. She stopped playing with herself to hold onto Eric's shoulders and ride him faster, and faster, setting a pace and working up a sweat to maintain it.

She nearly had a heart attack when his hands squeezed her thighs, and he sat up, nosing her throat.

It was instinct to climb off of him, to deny it, but his squeezing hands wouldn't let her go. She pushed at his hands, and shoulders, panic and fatigue making her limbs quake.

He growled lowly into her throat, the sound resonating through the both of them, making her clench around his cock, pulling him deeper. He growled again, his hands, in claws, pulling her shoulders closer to him so her breasts crushed against his chest.

She thought she was in trouble. His fangs were scraping along her shoulder, and he was growling out something in a different language, something he really only did when he was particularly mad. Tears of shame filled her eyes, and she covered her face with her hands.

"I'm sorry." she told him.

"Don't be." he kissed the side of her neck, growling again. "And for fuck's sake, Sookie, don't stop."

"I-..." she didn't know what to say. He smelled in her hair, and growled again, his chest vibrating against hers.

"Sookie." he said, his patience worn thin. "Just don't stop."

He lay back down again, his hands firm on her hips. She waited, blinking down at where she could feel him in the dark. His thumbs dug into her skin, making her jolt. He let rip with a long, low growl.

"Sookie."

She continued to stare down at him, suddenly much more nervous.

"Move."

His hands lifted her hips. He growled as she came back down again.

" _Please,_  Sookie."

He thrusted up. She let a small noise slip past her lips, courtesy of the pleasure on her body. She clutched his forearms, her nails digging into him.

"Eric-"

"No strings." he growled back. "Move, or I will move you."

She bit her lip. How could she do this? Well, how could she do this now that he was wide awake? He was growling again, his hands digging into her legs.

She rolled her hips. He moved to meet her. Now that, she hadn't been expecting and gasped, doubling over. He moved again, pressing as deeply as he could. She moaned, letting her eyes flutter closed.

Her pace resumed, and he growled every time he struck deep inside, coming up to meet her every thrust. She was incredibly exhausted, but couldn't stop moving. She needed it, she needed him.

"Allow me." he growled up at her. "Sookie. Let me top."

She didn't think he'd give her a choice, personally, but he pumped his hips into her, regardless, creating more delicious friction between them. She'd almost forgotten the request in five seconds - he was a magnificent lover, angling to places that were making her whimper on the way in and sigh on the way out.

"Do it." she whispered, and was promptly flipped onto her back. Her pushed her legs up and moved so that he was pushed in, more deeply and more intensely than she'd ever had. She arched, unable to form words, just very loud and very keen noises. They went on for what felt like hours, until he paused, pulled her up to wrap her legs around his hips, buried in her to the fullest hilt.

"I'm going to make you come, Sookie Stackhouse." he informed her, in a calm a voice as he could manage. "Are you ready?"

"Am I...?" she was dizzy with excitement. "Why did you stop? Don't stop. Don't stop, Eric."

"For you, lover..." he started pumping. "I don't think I can."

* * *

It was so intense she had a mild black out. He was soothing her when she came down, realizing the sheets were soaked and Eric was immensely smug, curled around her and purring as he rubbed her hair between his fingers.

"Did that.. all come out of me?" she whispered.

He hummed, and pressed a kiss to her hairline.

"Oh." she could feel her blush, and hid her face in one hand. "I didn't know... I could."

"Well with Compton as a lover, of course you wouldn't know you could. Don't berate me when I speak the truth. He's had more years than he should've and he should've utilized them in a proficient manner. Now..." he pressed a fangy kiss on her collar bone. "Would you like to have a shower with me?"


End file.
